


Primrose Path

by PorcelainBlack



Series: Red Fraction [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainBlack/pseuds/PorcelainBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To live without restraint, that is all Ayane Maresato wants. Her chance comes when she is offered as a bribe to the Whitebeard pirates. Her life changes dramatically after that, but her mother's will may diminish after realizing freedom comes with a price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primrose Path

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note:
> 
> I would like to apologize on the wait for this story, I have been working on some new ideas for it, but first I had to go back and fix the first chapter. I actually thought Ayane was very bland when I wrote her for this chapter, so I spiced it up a bit, and hopefully it will correct that mistake. Secondly, I changed some of my own personal character's names; I have decided to make a list of the changes at the bottom of the story as additional notes. 
> 
> I'd also like to thank all of the reviewers from the previous chapter. Thank you all for the support. 
> 
> Warnings: 
> 
> There will be adult language and slight adult situations in the beginning of this story. I apologize for anything that may seem obscene to the reader, and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> This is the first time I have written in first person, so I'm a little rusty. Third person is usually my cup of tea, but I decided against it on this fandom. If you have any questions please message me and I'll try to explain everything the best I can. Also, I don't own the rights to the One Piece characters mentioned in my story, but I do own my characters, and the plot, so please don't try to steal them. If any of my readers enjoy an idea or a character I have created, I am more than happy to allow them to use it. I just need to be notified first.

I hold my breath and lift myself onto the wooden baulk, balancing carefully against the square-shaped beams of the ship. The late evening sun glares at me, casting light up from the ocean in a haze of bright and liquid colors. I sink to my knees and peak over the front of the figurehead at the waves crashing against the bow. The pull of the tide isn’t all that strong but it sways the _First Rose_ gently across the clear, blue water.

The carved figure makes for a good place to sit. It looks exactly like a primrose with pale yellow petals blooming wildly across the bow. Ironically, it has become my favorite spot to be.

As a child, the symbol meant nothing to me. I thought of it as just a meaningless decoration; a prop displayed to justify the ship’s namesake, but my mother saw it as much more than an accessory. It was her way of life, her vow to live without restraint. She was a lot like an evening primrose before she wilted and died.

I push the memories of her to the back of my mind and enjoy the cool air that drifts in from the east. It sends shivers down my spine, but I ignore it. The day is far too beautiful to waste indoors, despite the winter island we are close to. The weather is dropping fast. It won’t be long now, maybe a day or two at the speed the ship is going.

“I beg of you, please get down from there before you fall,” a voice pleads.

I snap back to reality with a shock, nearly falling from my perch on the bow. The minute my nerves go calm, I shoot a glare toward the nobleman behind me. His name is Ansel. I know him only as my guardian, any theory as to why he abandon his heritage as a Celestial Dragon is still up in the air. I do however know he isn’t anything like those monsters in Mariejois.

He is kind, any semblance of arrogance gone from his pudgy face. On the other hand, he still wears an oxygen tank attached to a glass case around his head; not because he is big-headed, but because he has an allergy to sea salt. It is rather unfitting in my opinion.

“That wasn’t very nice. I could have fallen,” I state with a pout.

“I suppose if you did fall into the ocean, next time you would consider watching the sunset from behind the safety of the bow, young miss. I’m only suggesting this because I’d rather not fish you from the water’s depth,” he says.

I roll my eyes. He can be so dramatic sometimes.

“I am certain you didn’t come out here just to preach to me,” I mention.

“Not at all,” Ansel clarifies.

He motions his head toward an elegant bell-shaped dress over his arm; Kirino’s work no doubt. She is the couture aboard the ship, and I know for a fact she only makes such well-designed fabrics when there is a need for them.

“What is the occasion?”

Ansel smiles briefly at me. It is sudden, but I notice a dull flash in his eyes that makes my stomach feel queasy.

“The commander has requested your company in the dining room tonight. He says that there is something he must bring to your attention,” he explains.

“Tell him I said no,” I say dully.

Curse that fool for even suggesting something so ignorant. He must think that just because I am his step daughter I will agree to such a request, but I will not. I wouldn’t be able to keep my meal down.

“That is an unwise choice to make, girl. We didn’t teach you to disrespect your elders as such,” shouts a familiar voice, tinged in anger.

I recognize the voice. The way she refers to herself in third person is a dead giveaway. Her name is Kirino, and I’m not at all relieved to see her. In fact, I feel annoyed by her presence.

“I am not in the mood for a lecture, as I am sure you have come here to do,” I snap.

She scowls at me, shoving her slender hands on her hips. I will admit, she is beautiful, despite the sour look on her face that clearly doesn’t suit her. She was a former pirate captain at one time, and I’ll be honest, I am not exactly sure how she came to be my mother’s handmaiden, but nowadays she is nothing more than a seamstress.

“We are very disappointed, very angry,” she huffs.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ansel says. “I am quite content. It is you who are angry, my dear.”

“We weren’t talking about you,” she snaps at him.

He laughs, but it is I who notices the hearts in her eyes as she looks at the nobleman. It’s amusing, I must say. She only pretends to dislike him.

“As much as it pains us to say, Ansel is right. We think you should get down, and come inside. The commander is waiting for you to join him,” she adds.

“I know,” I sigh, chewing on the inside of my jaw; the kiss making expression Ansel says I do when I get anxious.

I was taught to always listen to my stepfather. Sadly, I promised my mother I would respect him. It has made me obedient, or as Kirino says, it has tamed me. She believes that parents are God in the eyes of a child, but I have my doubts. Daimasa and I don’t really see eye to eye.

I realize Kirino will be angry, but once again I refuse to listen, politely saying no to his invitation. I would lying if I said I didn’t care about the important matters my stepfather has to discuss with me, because I do, but I don’t feel like being bothered at the moment with his ignorance.

Kirino pulls at her dark hair in aggravation.

“Stop being so selfish,” she hisses. “If we don’t have you ready by the time the commander finishes his bath, he will have our head.”

“Surly not, my dear. You are far too valuable for the commander to decide to take your head, but dare I say, you could use an attitude readjustment,” Ansel cuts in.

Kirino swoons at his words, oblivious to his meaning. I assume she only heard valuable, and from the mouth Ansel, that is all she needs.

“For once, I agree with Ansel,” I say with a smile.

“Why you little,” she hisses.

I watch her use the baulk for balance, as she reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me toward her with a rough yank that nearly causes me to topple onto my back. She picks me up, despite my weight and her slim figure, and throws me over her shoulder.

I forget sometimes just how strong she is. She is known around my village as ‘Kirino, the iron maiden,’ former pirate, but she swears that is in the past. I have my doubts.

“Refrain from dropping her, my dear. I would hate to incur the wrath of her stepfather if you were to injure her,” Ansel says as Kirino carries me off the deck.

“She asked for it, we whole heartedly agree,” she jokes.

“I can walk. Put me down,” I laugh.

“We are not an easy woman to persuade,” she retorts, carrying me into my bed chamber.

It is as if she plans to dress me herself, and I can’t stop laughing enough to stop her. I suppose despite my aggravation, I will just have to suck it up and do as I am told. Such is life after all.

* * *

 

 

I must say, Kirino never ceases to amaze me. She has a real talent for sewing; the dress I am currently wearing is no exception. It is beautiful, designed to mock the modest fashion of classic Lolita with elegant white lace and obsidian colored bows. Her trademark hand stitched heart is embroidered into the left sleeve, and is by far my favorite of all the dresses that she has ever created for me.

I am fascinated with the way the dress blooms around my slender legs as I walk down the spiral staircase into the dining hall. My stepfather is sitting at the eating table, which is loaded with delicious looking foods from around the world.

Upon hearing the soft click of my platform shoes on the marble floor, he diverts his attention to me and smiles widely.

“Ayane my dear,” he bellows out.

I give him a curt nod and make my way across the ballroom to the table, arms laced behind my back.

“I must say, you look very lovely this evening. Kirino has my respects,” he adds upon closer inspection of me.

Speaking of Kirino, she and Ansel are present as well, standing in the corner of the room. They are dressed in their usual attire with the exception of Ansel’s air tank and glass case, which has been replaced with a simple, white mask. Against the wall beside them is a man I cannot stand to meet eye to eye, one of my stepfather’s strongest guards. His name is Bleibruck von Hagamar, or rather Sir Hagamar as I have come to know him. He is a man of few words, and former war hero of the marines.

I don’t know much about him, rather than his name, but I have heard rumors of his exploits in the New World from the kitchen staff. They claim to have read in the newspapers that he once delivered the heads of a hundred and fifty well known pirates to the doorstep of the holy land, gaining the epithet ‘ the executioner’ from the Celestial Dragons. I don’t know if this is true, but Ansel believes there is some truth to it, considering his name is praised along Mariejois.

It is a shame, because my stepfather can’t see that he is a wolf in sheep’s wool. Apparently, his eyes are not as open to world as mine are.

“Sir Hagamar, if you don’t mind,” my stepfather says while motioning his hand in a quick gesture.

The graying model of a man says nothing and walks toward me, offering me the chair next to my stepfather instead of the chair across from him that I had previously intended on taking for myself. He smells of blood and death. It makes my stomach turn, but I accept it with a polite smile.

“I’m grateful that you accepted my invitation to join me for dinner. I half expected you to turn me down,” my stepfather begins by saying.

Forced to accept is more of the term I would use. I said no at first, but as fate would have it, here I am. In spite of this awkward situation I am stuck in, I’m rather curious as to why he offered me such a proposal. Whatever the reason, Ansel and Kirino seemed upset by it, so I must know.

“I won’t lie, I fully intended to turn you down, but I was informed that you have something dire to speak to me about, so I am ready to hear it,” I say.

“In due time. I’d rather not start our dinner out with something unpleasant, so please, dig in. It would be a shame to let all this delicious seafood go to waste,” he says with a smile.

I sigh in irritation, but agree to his terms. He begins to inhale his food even before the kitchen staff can fill his plate. Legs of crabs and fish bones fly wildly in the air. It makes me sick to watch. I push back my plate and scoot to the edge of my seat, hoping that he doesn’t accidently try to eat me as well.

He certainly could if he tried, given that he is a devil fruit user; a zoan type if I am correct. The way his mouth stretches open, threatening to swallow everything in his path. I suppose that is why the marines call him the terror of the sea.

After a while of feeding his gut, he stops and looks at me, poking at a piece of sea king meat with my fork. I just can’t bring myself to eat it.

“You know,” he begins. “I believe you look a lot like Camelia in youth. Such a natural beauty she had, much like yourself.”

Camelia was my mother’s name, and it fit her so well; a vibrant flower with such admiration. When she died, it was truly heart-rending. Her death was the cause of so many tears, and only because her heart was broken by a sodding pirate.

She called him Shou, my birth father as I have come to know him. He left us when I was a little girl, no older than the age of nine, and even though my mother hid the pain from me, the memories of him eventually lead to her death.

I blame myself, because she had to look at his image in me every single day. My very own eyes, my smile, even the way I chew the inside of my cheek. It must have tormented her. I hate myself because of that pirate.

Suddenly there is a loud bang, a noise like cannon fire coming from outside the ship. The interior shifts roughly, tossing me out of my seat. The walls creak loudly, and I can hear wood shatter above the deck. The staff and everyone inside the dining hall in thrown around the room, clinging to dear life on to anything that may keep them from tumbling over. Once the barrage ceases, I pick myself off the floor and look around.

The ballroom is a complete mess. Tables and chairs lay on their sides, dishes are shattered to pieces across the floor, and people scurry about like rats to help one another up. The large, beautiful staircase I walked down is torn off the banister and lies motionless on the floor. I feel a sharp pain in my head and touch the spot where it hurts. When I retract my hand, blood covers the tips of my fingers. I imagine something must have hit me when the room came crashing down.

Moments later, the dining hall doors burst open and a member of the staff races in. Panting and out of breath, he stops mid ways in the room and looks around.

“Oh dear,” he gasps. “Commander, are you still alive?”

The table close to me shakes, and is sent hurling into the wall, splintering to pieces as my stepfather and Sir Hagamar emerge from the mess. I assume the iron executioner must have sheltered my stepfather and himself beneath the table when the room collapsed. How noble of the fool.

My stepfather coughs and stands to his feet with the help of Sir Hagamar, who oddly enough looks unharmed.

“What is going on here? What have you idiots done?”

A slur of curses leave his mouth. The timid boy shakes uncontrollably.

“Commander, it was pirates. The Whitebeard pirates have come aboard, and ask to have an audience with you,” he answers.

“What reason would pirates have to come aboard the ship?”

I look to my stepfather for the answer to my question. He gives me nothing.

“Nonsense,” he shouts in anger. “Blow them out of the water. Don’t let them come aboard my ship.”

“I’m sorry sir, but we are unable to defend ourselves,” the staff boy says.

“What do you mean you can’t defend yourselves?”

“When they … when they attacked us, they aimed for the mast, and once it fell the cannons on the deck were damaged,” he replies, voice tinged in fear. “My guess is that they were not trying to sink us, but merely to maim our defenses. If we try to fire on them, it could cause the cannons to explode and sink the entire ship.”

My stepfather sighs, “Very well then. Let them into the dining hall so I can speak with them.”

“They are pirates,” I shout in anger. “You can’t allow them to take the ship. We have to fight them. You are a marine commander with fifty men under your charge. Have them take up arms against them before they destroy us.”

Somehow I doubt he takes into consideration my suggestion. He stares at the floor with whatever internal battle he is fighting in his head. I find it unbelievable that he would even agree to such a proposal without liable means.

I’ve heard of the marines allowing certain pirates as allies to aid them in war, but under no means is Whitebeard a Warlord of the Sea. He is a menace to the World Government, and by that allegation I stand against him. My stepfather should too, but for some reason he refuses to fight. However, I will not stand down.

The chore boy leaves and for a moment there is silence. Not even the waves can be heard crashing against the side of the ship. Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. Three, maybe four at the most from the upper deck. They walk leisurely toward the dining hall till finally the footsteps cease in front of the large double doors in front of us.

They open with the chore boy in the lead. Two other men follow behind him.

The first glances around the room in awe. He is lean, yet muscular with blond hair, and a dark blue silhouette of a tattoo on his chest. He whistles under his breath as he walks across the room, surveying the damaged ship.

“This ship isn’t half bad,” he says with a smile, turning his head till he spots me. “For a Marine ship that is.”

He ends his sentence with a distinct ‘yoi’ and winks toward me, nudging the other crew mate of his in the arm.

The second pirate turns, looks at me, and slowly, slowly waves at me, taunting me. He is tall and muscular, with shaggy dark hair hidden beneath an orange cowboy hat. His shoulders are uncovered with the exception of a large tattoo on his upper bicep, the words written vertically.

He laughs as I roll my eyes.

The chore boy approaches my stepfather and bows again. “Sir . . . the Whitebeard Pirates as you requested.”

“Which of you is the captain?”

Despite the fact he speaks sternly to them, I can hear his voice tremble in fear.

“Out of the three of us who boarded your ship, none I’m afraid,” says the pineapple-haired blond.

He speaks as if he is making a joke.

My stepfather smiles, “In that case, no offence to your captain, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to seize the two of you and your ship in the name of the Marines.”

He snaps his fingers and Ansel and Kirino emerge from the piles of food and splintered wood. They were hiding all along. That’s a relief and somewhat of a letdown.

“I’ll get rid of them quickly, sir,” Ansel says, taking a familiar stance.

He rocks his body back and forth, swinging his arms in constant motion. It’s called Capoeira, and Ansel is a master at it. He uses a series of rolls and acrobatics to get himself closer to the two pirates, to lay up an attack, but before he can perform some single rasteiras; a quick leg sweep, he is grabbed by the arm and pulled through the floor. His body disappears beneath the interior of the ship.

“Ansel,” I shout, running for him.

Before I can get close, Kirino grabs me by the arm and holds me back, pushing me behind her. I hold back tears and glare at the two pirates. A third man is now in the room.

He hoists himself up through the hole that Ansel disappeared into and lands on the floor with a thunderous bang. He is big, maybe even several feet taller than the other two, and heavily armored with dark skin. The reason he may have been hiding in the floor was to sneak attack anyone who interfered.

“How repulsive,” Kirino growls. “Learn some proper manners boy. It is coward-like to attack your enemy from beneath the cover of the floor.”

The pineapple laughs and taps his finger against his chest, “We’re pirates, remember?”

Kirino pushes me back, knocking me to the floor and charges at the giant. Once she is close, she swings her fist back and aims it at him, connecting her knuckles to his chest. I wait for the giant to fall, but instead Kirino screams out in pain and grabs her arm, the bones shattered and prodding out of her skin. It’s like his body is made of steel or diamond. He raises his arm and swats Kirino like a bug, sending her flying across the room. She lays motionless against the wall.

I gasp, holding my hand over my mouth. He defeated them without a single bit of effort. They’re monsters, all of them. I can’t allow another single pirate to take away those close to me. I run over to the shattered table Hagamar tossed against the wall and pull loose a leg with nails sticking from the top, holding it at arm’s length in front of me.

“Get the hell out of here. Just leave us alone, or I’ll kill every single one of you,” I hiss.

“No need to get violent,” the pineapple says, lifting his hands in defense. “We just came to talk. Our captain sent us to collect the money the commander owes us.”

I let my arms sag a little, but my grip on the table leg tightens. I don’t seem to understand what he means. My stepfather doesn’t owe money to their captain.

“The marines would never do such a thing so ignorant as to borrow money from a pirate,” I say calmly.

“That’s not always true. Your commander is dirty, and he owes Pops a hell of a lot of beli,” says the dark haired pirate.

I swear his voice sounds almost sincere, but despite this I find the situation rather absurd. There is no possible way any of what they say can be true.

“I don’t believe you,” I shout in anger.

My body is shaking from the serge of adrenalin pushing through me.

“You are a liar,” I add through clinched teeth.

“Ayane,” my stepfather shouts.

I turn to look at him, searching his face for any trace of disbelief, but he avoids my gaze. I gasp, pointing the broken piece of table at him, but Hagamar blocks me from doing any harm to him if I were to try.

“You are too young to understand how the world works, my child. We need money to survive. Money is what brings food to our table, and puts clothing on our backs. I don’t expect you to understand what I mean, so just be quiet and stand down,” the bastard explains.

I cannot believe I am hearing this from him. I hold back tears, biting my bottom lip until it stings. The table leg drops to the floor at my feet, and my hands clutch the fabric of my dress. My body goes numb as I stare at the glimmering tile beneath my feet. It’s not until I hear my stepfather stand up and walk toward me that I glance up at him. His face is void of emotion. He lifts his hand and places it on my cheek, wiping the tears off my face.

“Whitebeard Pirates,” he calls, his voice clear and gruff. “I don’t have the money owed to you just yet. I’m a dirty marine, but I still have some honor left in this old body of mine. I’ll pay your captain the 100,000,000 that I owe him, but I’ll do it without pilfering and killing the less fortunate. In the meantime, I would like to lend my stepdaughter to your captain until my debt it paid in full.”

I gasp, “You can’t do this. I’m . . . I’m not something to be bargained.”

“You have a deal,” I hear the pineapple say.

I turn and glare at him, wanting so badly for him to drop dead.

“Of course, the girl is just a loan. She isn’t worth a single beli, so we’re raising the price to 800, 000, 000,” he adds.

“Hagamar, if you would please,” my stepfather says.

I feel him grab my arms and pull them behind my back. I resist against him, jerking my body forward in violent bursts, but Hagamar doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip grows tighter, making my wrists burn. He uses his body to nudge me along, keeping one hand on the back of my neck to guide me forward. When we are at least a few feet away from the pirates, he releases my neck and hands, pushing me toward them. I stumble forward and fall to my knees in front of them. My body can’t take anymore. My will is crushed.

I sit on the floor unable to move. It hurts so much, but I can’t even squeeze out a tear. I want to scream, to fight, but I have nothing left to uphold. My father left me when I was a child, my mother died because of that, and now the only family I have left is giving me away to pirates.

In spite of this, I refuse to go down without a fight. I reach into my shoe and retrieve a metal dart that I hid away, prior to the diner party. I had planned to save it in case of emergencies; Ansel taught me to always be prepared. Dart throwing is a skill I am rather good at. It takes excellent hand-eye coordination, but Ansel made sure I was well taught before allowing me to have an actual set of darts fashioned to suit me.

Unfortunately for me, I am much too close to the three to throw it. Instead I take the dart in both hands and plunge it at the dark haired pirate like a knife. I aim for his bare chest, exactly in the center; I don’t want to kill him, just maim him a little, but just as the tip of the triangle is about to pierce his skin, he catches my hands in mid thrust.

“Holy hell,” the blond uttered out.

“That wasn’t very nice,” the one I attempted to injure says.

He grabs the tip of the dark, and instantly it starts to heat up in my hand. I yelp as it becomes too hot, and quickly toss it to the floor. The entire dart glows a faint red before returning to the liquid silver it was before. I stare in disbelief at it, falling to my knees. It felt as if he just burned me by mere touch alone. How is that even possible?

I flinch as a hand touches mine. I look up, staring into the eyes of the young man who somehow burned me. His sun burnt cowboy hat darkens his face, but even so I can see small traces of childish freckles across his cheeks. I watch nervously as he turns my hands from back to palm, closely examining them. They are slightly red and tender, but nothing that may cause me any real damage.

“I’m very sorry,” he whispers.

He stands and slips his hand around my wrist while the other one grabs my shoulder, lifting me to my feet. I still feel a little shaky but I’m able to stand on my own with the pirate letting me lean against his side for support.

“Our captain will give you until the end of the year to pay the debt,” the blond says all of a sudden.

I’m afraid to look at my stepfather. I just don’t know what to think. It could be the heat getting to me. It’s almost unbearable.

I soon realize it is the pirate holding me on my feet that is putting off the heat. His body is unusually warm, almost as if fire is licking at his body. I turn my head a little, pressing my cheek into his shoulder. He must be sick; his body is way too warm, but he smells so good. The end of his hair tickles the tip of my nose as I breathe his scent. This earns a laugh from the blond, who sees me doing so.

“I think she likes you,” he teases, receiving a grunt from freckles.

His body tenses, but presses harder into mine. I’m appalled by such an accusation, but I imagine this position looks rather awkward to the blond. I can’t say I blame him for mentioning it. I find it hard to breathe at this point, and pull away from him. He raises his left brow and grins, an expression that makes him seem incredulous of me.

“Way to scare her away,” he jokes.

How vulgar; the statement he makes. I can’t ignore the fact he is still a pirate though.

“Please just go,” I beg, stepping back.

He looks at me, dropping his brow. The grin however remains.

“I do not care if you blow up the ship and kill me and everyone on it. I would rather die than become a prisoner to a bunch of pirates,” I add sharply.

His eyes grow dark; they appear to be more prominent than before. I could be mistaken, but it looks as if I have made him mad.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I am saying I would rather die than be a slave, so go ahead and kill me. My life means little to trash like you,” I cry.

I feel his hand slide up the small of my back, heating a trail up my spine as he glides it over an area of my arm where my shoulder meets my neck. I shiver and swallow the fear pouring through me. He is going to kill me, I am going to die. I don’t want to die.

“Such a spoiled brat,” he hisses.

I feel a sharp pinch, then everything goes black.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact:
> 
> When I first decided to write this story I had intended to make Ansel and Kirino, formerly Julius and Alice very mean to Ayane, but the more in-depth with the characters I got, I found that I enjoyed them in Ayane's life. I wanted her life to be tragic, and in need of improvement, but I thought of the two of them as a light in Ayane's dark past.
> 
> Changes:
> 
> Ayane's servants I decided to spice up a bit. I changed their names from Julius and Alice to Ansel and Kirino, because at the time I posted the first chapter, I didn't intend to use so much detail in the two.
> 
> Ayane's step father I named Diamasa, meaning vast and just, or military. His guard Sir Hagamar, I reversed his name to go with the style of character names Oda uses.
> 
> Her mother I decided to name Cameila, and her father Shou. It was a decision I had made when working on the one-shot for this story, which by the way is nearly finished, but sort of long.
> 
> As for Ayane's use of dart throwing, that is an ability I gave her for further uses later in the story.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the update of this chapter, and I hope the next one wont take too long. Be looking forward for the One-shot as well, it's cute.


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